A Secondary Blog
by benedicking
Summary: Sherlock get's possessive when John has a personal blog.


John was typing on the computer when Sherlock barged in, obviously in the middle of a very important case. He marched up to John and swiped the computer from him, quickly typing.

"Sherlock! I was doing something!"

Sherlock scoffed. "Oh yes, like you can't finish blogging about the case later."

John took a deep, violent breath. _"I have other things I am involved with other than you,"_he muttered under his breath.

Sherlock continued to be engrossed in his queries. "Oh John, please don't speak under your breath under the pretense that I _can't_hear you."

John rolled his eyes and got up from the chair, walking up to his bedroom with purpose. Before long, he heard quick steps up the stairs and his door opened slowly.

"John, what is this?"

John was slowly typing out a message on his phone and didn't even bother to look up. "What is what?" he asked, unenthusiastic.

"This, this! This blog! What are, what are personal musings?" Sherlock asked, obviously perturbed.

John raised his eyebrows. "Sherlock, we both know you are aware of the definition of personal musings. Why would you even ask me that?"

Sherlock placed the computer on the bed heatedly, pacing around the small room.

"But, I don't understand! Why would you have another blog? You already have a blog! A perfectly good blog! A quite popular blog if I do say so myself. Why would have another? I don't understand the purpose!"

John chuckled, then finally looked at Sherlock's face. He was red and in the process of his maddening anger had somehow undone the top button of his purple shirt, which was already exceedingly tight. "Why would you be angry, Sherlock? It's pointless! Just another blog! Why would you care?"

Sherlock pressed his fingertips to his temples. "John, but…you're my blogger! You blog about our cases and apparently provide endless entertainment for the masses."

John stood and walked over to Sherlock. He was seated on top of his desk and, as John stood in front of him, noticed that his eyes were dilated. They were exactly eye to eye, something John rarely experienced.

"_But why would that matter to you."_It was no longer a question, but a statement. They were in such close proximity to each other. John felt some kind of nervous tension radiating between them. Why should Sherlock become so suddenly _possessive_of a blog? It was only a blog, after all.

"John, don't feign ignorance! Don't pretend like you don't understand! You're not a fool, John. Only a fool asks for information he already knows. You don't need a reminder of what you're already aware of."

Sherlock was in a tizzy, like his cases where he talked fast and furious to get all the information out where he could understand it. He spoke with blinding fury, and John blinked fast. He was trying to process this, his brain working just a fast as Sherlock's, but winding different gears and cogs.

"Sherlock," John said slowly, leaning forward. "Tell me exactly what you mean. Spell it out for me. What's so incredibly obvious to you is rocket science to me."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Which is actually not very complicated, you see, I—" he was about to continue but John's urging looks told him to drop his brilliant explanation. He looked very closely at John's face, studying the lines and curves and realized the emotions in his heart and his brain began to cloud and he was very suddenly giving way to strange feelings deep within himself.

"John, you're my blogger."

"But I don't understand what that—" and then suddenly, without any warning, Sherlock grabbed John by the collar or his jumper and pressed his lips to John's. It was strange at first, neither side knowing how to react. John was concerned with what an appropriate reaction was to such a kiss, but his emotions overtook his mind, and it became instinct within moments. They both basked in each other, the moment, the realization that this had in fact become a thing, a memory that was forever ingrained in 221b Baker Street.

"Sherlock." It was a statement. It held all of the connotations of the kiss, the love, the fear for what was to come, the blank book, the uneasiness mixed with the elation.

"John, you're mine."


End file.
